


a breakfast for kings

by arexnna



Series: lost stars [8]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-15
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-07 17:23:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arexnna/pseuds/arexnna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: eating in the same diner every morning and the waitress ALWAYS mixes up our orders so why don't we just sit at the same table to save her the trouble</p>
            </blockquote>





	a breakfast for kings

_eating in the same diner every morning and the waitress ALWAYS mixes up our orders so why don't we just sit at the same table to save her the trouble_

-/-

It isn’t the first time – _no_ , not even the second, but the _fourth_ time that this has happened. And she knows for a fact, that this is no coincidence – she’d known it from the moment it had begun happening – that this little mix up that’s been happening is _purely_ out of the doing of the devil.

Rue the day Emma told Ruby that the single other regular of the diner she frequents for breakfast is mildly attractive – for since that unfortunate morning, her friend has been trying to set them up with the most ridiculous of ploys – her favourite one being _accidentally_ mixing up their orders.

Given the fact that their choice of breakfast foods differ _vastly_ (hers being pancakes with (free of charge) strawberries on her whip cream, sidelined with hot chocolate and cinnamon topped onto it; his being eggs benedict with two extra strips of bacon placed on the sides to make a (corny) smiley face (that she notices he oh so enjoys), quenched with _very_ black coffee she had the misfortune of having a sip of) the chances of these little mix ups being accident is microscopic.

It’s the same every time – Ruby will place his plate in front of her, and hers before him, resulting in the unamused glare Emma shoots towards her, which is then followed by Ruby faking a ( _convincing_ ) apologetic look as she swaps the meals back.

He doesn’t complain – the handsome stranger who’d she had recently found out is named Killian and is British ( _fuck_ ) from overhearing his conversation with Granny, accent thick and strong as if straight off the boat – never once showing a glimpse of impatience or annoyance. And for that, she salutes him for his show of patience. God (and any one of her friends) knows had a waitress _actually_ mixed up her food with someone else’s, she would _not_ be a happy customer.

Every morning, he sits on the table in the corner of the diner, the table meant for two but the single other seat is used for with briefcase; whilst she sits by the counter, making it far easier to talk to (and be teased by) Ruby.

This time, instead of his usual spot, he opts for the stools by the counter, four seats from her right. She convinces herself that it’s because Gary from two blocks down (she knows because that’s all he ever tells anyone) has taken the table near his and though he doesn’t strike her as the arrogant type, she forces herself to believe this. 

She doesn’t miss the way Ruby wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at the gesture – nor does her foot miss Ruby’s shin as she passes by. And for the first time, she actually gets a good look at him, and _boy_ was she not wrong about the attractiveness of the man with a scruffy face and blue, _blue_ eyes. So when he shines a smile at her – a short, greeting type of smile – she freezes for exactly two seconds before replying with a stiff one in return.  

Trying not to seem like a stalker ogling him, she busies herself with typing empty words into her phone ( _“Smooth,” Ruby whispers when she makes her way back – a jest that Emma chooses to ignore_ ) hoping not to look pathetic as she awaits her staple breakfast.

And when _the_ food comes (yes, _the –_ not _her_ – _Goddamnit Ruby_ ), she holds her breath, cringing at how this time, the handsome regular sits close enough for them to switch foods easily. She peeks at him, seeing the silent laugh that’s on his face, the way he chuckles quietly while looking down at his meal.

“ _Oh_ ,” Ruby reappears from behind the swinging door, her mouth forming an ‘O’ too overly, “I can’t believe I did that again. I’m sorry, I’ll—“

“No harm done, lass,” she’s cut off by him, his hand held out and Ruby stops in her (faked) attempt to help.

_God, god, god – what does she do?_

She’s completely aware of how her mouth hangs ajar, eyes wide and body frozen as he picks up the plate and the rest of his belongings, and slides them down – _four spaces to his left_.

“I reckon this’ll be easier for our dear Ruby to get our orders correct,” he jokes and damn him for trying to be smooth and what not.

Because right now, with her mouth hanging half open, she is anything but smooth.

_Oh God._

She hadn’t realized how close the stools are placed to each other, and now he’s so awfully near that she can actually smell the faint scent of cologne on him.

“Do you mind?” he asks, effectively pulling her out of the trance his proximity has pulled her into. He’s pointing at his food, and she nods profusely. He swaps the plates wordlessly, though a smile seeming permanent on his lips.

He eats his food quietly, and she too (after a moment’s of blankness) begins on hers.

It’s silent – a comfortable silence that shouldn’t be felt between strangers – for a while, until, “’s not healthy,” he says with a mouth full.

“Hm?”

When he turns, he’s swallowing the English muffin, and she doesn’t bother lying to herself about the fact that she watches as his Adam’s apple bobs. “Eating pancakes everyday,” his answer is casual, the way he wipes his mouth with the napkin amplifying the effect.

“Coming from the guy who eats bacon every morning?”

“At least _my_ whole meal isn’tbased on sugar.”

“Because the fats and oils are so much better?” she throws back, and he responds in an amused smile.

“Tie?” his eyebrow rises as his hand is held out in mutual agreement. She takes it carefully, shaking it loosely. “I’m Killian,” he introduces (not like Emma doesn’t already know that – _oh god she seems like a stalker_ )

“Emma,” she introduces, and _damn it_ , she can already see Ruby’s triumphant grin as she watches from god knows where.

She doesn’t notice the way her hand is still in his (not that she would do anything had she realized) until he breaks the silence that dawns upon them, “Right, well,” he lets go of her hand gently, “I’ve got to catch the bus to work.” He smiles, signaling at Ruby as he picks up his things.

Before she can even get there, he drops a 100-dollar bill, gesturing at both Emma’s and his plates before he sends them one last smile and turns to leave, the door jingling behind in his wake.

She doesn’t even get to say anything – not a refusal, not a thank you before he’s gone and she’s just left frozen like an idiot.

“I would be poor if it weren’t for the handsome British men lining up at your door, getting to you by tipping me, my dear Emma,” she waves the single note in victory, an all too-pleased grin plastered to her face.

When she finally comes back to herself, her delayed response is an eye roll, though there’s barely any fire behind it. She can even feel her face only now (thank God) heating up, and by the look her friend gives her, she already knows how deep her blush must be.

“Shut up,” is all she says before she storms out, Ruby’s _‘oh, come on, Emma!’_ s trailing behind her as the door shuts after her.

-/-

(Later, when they’ve made a deal that should transcend their friendship for it to never be spoken of again, she texts Ruby a shy _thank you_ , to which is replied by with a message containing only 10 numbers and a smiley face)

( _Fucking Ruby_ )

-/-

Just when she’s having second thoughts about sending him the text (a simple and straight forward: **_hey, this is emma. thanks for the breakfast this morning_** ), he beats her to it, and as much as she tells herself Ruby’s meddling is a nuisance, she wouldn’t be sitting in her room smiling like an idiot at the message that’s come through.

(God knows where she would be – probably just staring from the booth in the corner of the diner squinting her eyes at the man with eyes as blue as the sky and a jawline that could possibly cut— and she just shudders at the thought of it)

_Hey, it’s Killian from Granny’s here_

**_hey killian from Granny’s_** , she types and sends before she has time to realize how stupid it was.

**_oh god, i’m sorry_ **

**_let me start again_ **

**_hey_ **

**_(lets pretend i’m cool)_ **

She cringes at her words. The dapper, always-in-work-attire (who the hell wears a three piece suit _everyday_ to the office anyway?) man is probably shaking his head at how dorky she is.

_I find you quite endearing, if you ask me._

_But that’s just asking me – ask the next guy, and he’d probably think you’re a mad woman_

**_you think you’re so funny Jones_ **

Shit. She hadn’t realized that—

_Ah, so you know my last name, yet I don’t have the privilege to know yours_

She can’t help the laugh when she reads his message. He’s so… _British_ , that it even shows through virtual conversation.

**_Swan_ **

_Panther_

**_what?_ **

_Oh? I thought we were telling each other our favourite animals?_

_No?_

**_you’re an idiot_ **

_It’s nice to meet you Emma Swan._

There’s a fluttering in her stomach when he replies with that, and screw him for having so much charm, because honestly it’s not fair. Not once in the twenty eight years she’s lived has she ever had _butterflies_ and here comes this guy who sidles up next to her in a diner and texts her far too adorable to be real messages, making her actually flush at his words.

_It’s late – I best sleep if I’m going to be able to wake up early enough to catch breakfast._

_Goodnight Swan_

_See you tomorrow?_

**_night, killian – see you tomorrow_ **

-/-

(If asked, she’ll never admit to her mind doing a little victory dance when she doesn’t mess up the goodbye)

(Well, that’s not true. Ruby asks – she tells)

-/-

(She sees him the next morning and he doesn’t even hesitate before taking the seat beside her and it seems that both od them can’t hide the smiles on their faces)

(Just for old time’s sake – or so she says – Ruby swaps their plates, the delighted smirk from the day before seeming to refuse to vanish, still on her lips, but Killian just laughs and _boy_ does his eyes twinkle when he laughs)

(They talk about menial things – the basics to getting to know a person – she finds out he works in corporate (which explains the suit, not that she minds) and she tells him that she’s a bails bondsperson and he doesn’t even look remotely shocked, nor does he ask _why bails bonds? Isn’t that a male dominant job?_ and she feels like she may like him a bit more)

-/-

(They meet the next day too – texting most of time the day before, and the cycle continues for two weeks before (thanks to much a push from her good ol’ wingman) he finally plucks up the courage to ask her out – and thank god he did because if he waited just another day, she would’ve caved in this game of cat and mouse, and just asked him out herself)

 -/-

(Three weeks into dating, Ruby switches their plates again ( _last time, I promise_ ) and they decide _not_ to exchange them back. He tries her ‘glutinous’ pancakes and she eats his oil soaked bacon. He tells her she’ll get diabetes, and she warns him he’ll get fat, but when the next morning rolls along, they find themselves picking off each other’s food)

(Her friend smirks knowingly from the corner back of the counter, and when they finally leave to get to work, Emma makes sure to leave a bigger tip—

As well as the number of one Victor Whale from the police station, topped off with a smiley face)

(They decide to call it even)

-/- 


End file.
